Blogs

I cannot begin to imagine the feelings of those poor people fleeing from persecution in places like Syria and then suddenly finding their dreams of getting to the United States devastated. Actually I can begin to, but only just. In 1984 my wife and I were living in Oregon and that summer we travelled to a conference in Switzerland followed by a visit to friends in England. On the last day I called in at the US Embassy in London and was suddenly told that we were not travelling on the right visa and wouldn’t be allowed in.

I have lived in the United States for about a third of my life. As an evacuee from war-torn Britain (1940-45) I imbibed in my American schools all that young Americans did growing up at that time whether it was the patriotism of Nathan Hale: ‘I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country’ or of Barbara Frietchie’s Civil War story: "Shoot if you must this old grey head but spare my country’s flag” she said.’ I learned to recite Paul Revere’s story from Longfellow’s poem: ‘On the 18th of April 75 hardly a man is now alive who remembers that famous day and year’ (I was actually in the same class at school with his descendant, Paul Revere).